


Distortion

by StoryQueen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ASPD, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Control, Dark, Freaky shit ahead, Gen, Harry and Louis are insane :(, Lots of laws broken, Mental Instability, One Sided Love, Read at Own Risk, Suicide, This was a prompt so this is kinda weird, drugs and alcohol, louis loves harry, no seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryQueen/pseuds/StoryQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was when Harry was eighteen that he was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder. His past had been dark. His family was nice, his friends were nice, the life he lived was nice. It’s just something about the woods.</p>
<p>Or the one where Harry develops Antisocial Personality Disorder after growing up with his friend Louis who also has ASPD, and he has to face the fact that he caused Louis' suicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distortion

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt
> 
> 'I saw that you needed some prompts and I thought maybe you could write an imagine where Louis kills himself when him and Harry fight and Harry pretends like he doesn't care like threw the whole funeral and at the end says something rude like he deserved to die and Niall or Liam slap him and he leaves then when him and Zayn talk he would open up and cry...lots of fluff and I love you bby <3'
> 
> (So yeah, this is what I came up with! WARNING: Very dark shit ahead! Read at own risk!)

It was when Harry was eighteen that he was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder. His past had been dark. His family was nice, his friends were nice, the life he lived was nice. It's just something about the woods.

The small village where he use to live was surrounded by woods. Large mazes of oaks, willows and ashes where he and his friends would play for hours before being called home by their mothers. There was one friend in particular who had changed his life.

Louis Tomlinson. He lived in the house opposite Harry since he was a baby. They were like brothers, going everywhere together. It was no surprise for Harry to bring Louis back to his for tea, and then for both boys to cross the street for a sleepover at Louis'. There mothers weren't worried at all for the two, happy to see their son's happiness.

Louis' father was a beast of a man. He was ex-military, as far as Harry knew, and Harry hardly saw him. He didn't dare mention him around Louis' mother, the few times he had had taught him not to again as Louis' mother would grab the nearest worktop to stop herself from crumbling down in tears. She would often have bruises on her face and arms, and at a young age, Harry assumed it was because she was clumsy.

Louis seemed to love his father, however. When they were ten, Louis presented his pocket knife that his father had given him. Harry awed at it as it glinted in the rays of sunlight seeping through the leaves of the trees as Louis swung it round, pretending to be fighting wild monsters. Harry would laugh along, chasing his friend.

Their games of wild monster hunting was all innocent until they did come across a wild monster. Louis' father had taught Louis how to set up traps to catch animals, so when Harry saw the snow white rabbit happily munching at some grass inside the twig cage Louis had made, he smiled.

"It's a real wild monster, Harry," Louis had said happily, lifting the cage and holding the rabbit in his arms. Harry wanted to hold the rabbit in his arms, take it home as a pet, but Louis had already took out his pocket knife and was smiling up to Harry. "Let's kill the wild monster."

It was still innocent to Harry. Even when his mother questioned the blood on Louis' shirt when they came back for dinner, they just laughed to each other and started eating.

They had always been this close, even when they started going to different high schools. They would meet up after school and play in the woods, climbing trees to get to birds nests and cooking the eggs on Louis' little camp fire his father had given him.

One day, when they were both fourteen, while Harry was sleeping over at Louis', Louis' mother showed Harry her new watch. It was a delicate little thing with a few diamonds around the clock face. "It was my mother's. It's been passed down since the Victorian times. It's now mine, now that my mother has gone." Harry only smiled up to her and went to play video games with Louis.

Harry wanted that watch. He didn't care anymore. He crept into Louis' parents room, again, Louis' father still nowhere to be found, and took the watch from the bedside table. The next morning, Louis' mother went frantic looking for the watch. She asked Harry, who simple shook his head.

When they were fifteen, they had ventured far into the woods, enough to come across an old mine. Louis ducked under the narrow entrance first, Harry following blindly. It was dark, but Louis had a box of matches in hand. Inside they found abandoned explosives, so naturally they took it back and hid it under Harry's bed for a later date.

Two days later, Harry was in detention. He didn't know what he did. If Sandra Bucket called him a fag, then it's only fair that he buries her face three foot deep into the school yard. Yes, maybe she was knocked out and rushed to hospital, and yes, maybe Harry would have continued to beat her pretty little face up if teachers hadn't of come and grabbed him, but it wasn't his fault.

When he got out of detention he found Louis in the woods.

"Where were you?" he shouted over. Louis was pissed off, again.

"I was locked up again. Not my bloody fault, Lou." Harry picked up a stone and threw it in the general direction of the lake behind Louis. He had to get his anger out.

Louis walked over to him. "What did they give you detention for this time?"

"I was defending myself."

Louis patted Harry strongly on the back. "I think this calls for sweet revenge, don't you?"

"What, on Sandra Bucket?"

"Nah," Louis grinned. He took a few steps in the direction Harry had come from. "I never really liked your high school that much. Why don't we give them something to talk about, eh?"

They weren't ever caught. The school had to be shut down as a danger zone as the rubble of the east side was still smoking after the explosion. No one was hurt, much to Harry's disappointment, but he and Louis never admitted to it. No one really suspected them, to be honest.

Harry was forced to go to Louis' high school, and as much as he loved the fact he could now stay with his friend, he much rather have been ditching class to be in the woods with Louis.

They officially ended high school when they were sixteen, not that they went in much, and after failing all of their exams that they didn't show up for, they both still stuck together. College wasn't an option, not that they cared.

Their mothers were worried. Harry's mother tried to talk some sense into him, only for Harry to slam his fists down into the kitchen table and scream at her. He was not her slave, he was a man. He wasn't going to be controlled by her anymore.

"I am the male of the house. I don't care if you are my mother. My father isn't here, so I'm in control of this house, do you hear me? I'm in control!"

His mother feared him, and he knew it, but he didn't care. He was seventeen when he first hit her. Right across that smug face of hers. Teach her for not saying hello to Louis when he came over.

Whenever Harry went around to Louis' house, he was always smiling at Louis' mother. "How lovely to see you, Mrs Tomlinson," and "I hope you're okay, Mrs Tomlinson." There was also the occasional "Mrs Tomlinson, your son is such a lovely boy, why do you think he needs therapy? Do you think he's insane, Mrs Tomlinson? Do you think he's crazy? Maybe it was the way he was brought up, Mrs Tomlinson. Maybe it's the way you brought him up, isn't it, Mrs Tomlinson? Maybe it was your fault Louis is such a bad boy, now isn't it, Mrs Tomlinson."

Louis use to always grin at Harry when he did this. It made him feel like he had power, being able to put thoughts and feelings into people's heads.

He couldn't control Louis, however. Louis seemed to have more control over him then he had over Louis. He didn't like it.

Zayn had been their friend as a child, and was an off-and-on friend of their throughout high school. He was a college dropout as well, and whenever they came across each other in the woods he'd share some weed with them. Harry liked Zayn; he knew how to have a good time.

Niall came with Zayn. Niall was Zayn's boyfriend, a little blonde guy who got away with murder- well, maybe not murder, but certainly steeling food and vodka for them to enjoy.

The four of them crossed paths a few times in the weeks, and even though Harry and Louis both seemed like they trusted them, they both shared the same unspoken caution about the two boys.

When they brought Liam into the group, Louis snapped.

"What is this? Did you pick this up from the gutter, Zayn?" Louis stood over Liam, an accusing finger pointing down at the boy. "Did you force him to come? Threaten his life for him to be your friend?"

Harry didn't really know what Louis was doing, nor did he care. If Louis didn't like Liam, then neither did Harry. Harry didn't do much to Liam, just ignored him and bumped into him the few times when they were close.

It was Harry's eighteenth birthday party that things changed again. Zayn was organising it, and had invited all of his friends down to the woods. There was lots of alcohol and drugs, and Harry loved it.

Louis pulled him away from the party after it had gotten dark. They climbed up on top of the mine, struggling a little bit with the loose rock beneath their feet and the intoxicated state they were in, trying to avoid falling off the edge of the steep drop next to them, a drop that was a least one-hundred foot, leading to solid rock.

"Harry."

"What is it, Louis? They're gonna set off the fireworks soon."

Louis looked down shyly and reached out and held Harry's hands with his own. Harry was confused. Louis had never been like this before. He hands felt weird.

"Harry, I'm been wanting to tell you something for a while now."

Harry went to pull his hands away, but Louis kept tight hold of them. Louis was controlling him. He was not in control. Harry was not in control.

It was Louis. It was always Louis. Louis was the one controlling him. He needed to be in control.

"What?!" he shouted. He was losing it. He hands were twitching, his eye blinking fast. His muscles clenches and relaxed repeatedly. What was Louis doing to him.

Louis smiled up to him, unaware of what Harry was going through. Harry closed his eyes tight. Be in control, he kept telling himself. Control.

When he felt Louis' lips on his own, he lost it. He crushed Louis' hands in a vice-like grip and stood backwards. Louis let out a squeal of friend and Harry glared up at his from where he was bent down. There was a fire in his eyes, and he pulled away from Louis, turning his back on him.

"How. Fucking. Dare you," he screamed over his shoulder.

"I love you, Harry."

"How fucking dare you!"

Harry heard Louis crying. Yes, he had won. He had control now, control over Louis. Louis was never going to bother him again.

And it couldn't be more true.

He turned around to find nothing, a small thud echoing through the woods conforming that Louis had jumped.

Louis was never going to bother him again

When Zayn discovered Louis the next day, he asked Harry.

"I saw him fall. He was drunk. He didn't know what he was doing, and he walked off the edge."

Harry had gotten good at lying.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that you saw him fall?"

"Too drunk to think straight..."

The police didn't ask too many questions, all of which Harry answered guilt-free. Zayn, Niall, and even Liam, who hated Louis, were all shocked at the tragedy of one of their friends dying from an accident.

Accident, suicide, both seemed to be the same to Harry.

The funeral was short, only a few people there. Louis' mother was weeping at the front. Harry scoffed. It was only one boy. One controlling, manipulative, indoctrinating boy who deserved it.

He laughed out loud, a quick scoff, with his chin held high. Heads turned, and the next thing he knew he was being thrown to the floor just outside the church doors by Niall.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he shouted down to Harry.

Harry smiled. "I don't give a shit, Niall." He looked behind Niall where everyone in the church was looking out to them. He locked eyes with Louis' mother. "He deserved to die, the little bastard!"

Niall grabbed Harry's collar and slapped him. Pain absorbed through Harry's body quicker and harder than he expected. He stared up at Niall. Niall's jaw was clenched and his hand went into a fist.

"You stop it right now, or I'll hit you again."

For once in his life, Harry listened. His eyes flicked back from Niall's eyes to his fist. His eyes blinked a few times, and then he felt his head leave him as his body tumbled backwards and his vision faded to black.

\---

There was a knock on the door. Harry slowly raised his eyes and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. "Come in."

The door slowly creeped over, and Zayn's face came into view. He smiled over to Harry, a small, fake smile. A greeting, rather than a compliment. Zayn walked across the room and sat on the bed next to Harry.

It had been too long since he had last seen Zayn. Harry had lost track of the date, what with being dragged off for treatments and therapy.

Zayn patted his knee and a small sigh. "I need to know, Harry." Zayn's fingered clenched a little at Harry's trousers, but then relaxed. "What happened? Two yeas ago. With Louis."

Harry closed his eyes. Two years. Was it really two years since he had last seen his feather-haired friend? His stomach twisted. In his mind- which had been changed, not fully, but slightly- suicide was the same as murder. It's always caused by someone. Louis had walked off that cliff because of him. Louis may have been drunk, Louis may have been high, but Louis was also depressed. Harry had rejected him and turned against him.

Harry let out a gaspy cry, clutching his chest as he lent forward. Zayn placed a concerned hand on his back. "You alright?"

Harry shook his head, his tears breaking through as he gasped for air. It was his fault Louis was dead. It was his fault that everyone in the village had hated him. It was his fault that he was in this cell, after years of therapy, gasping for breath as he cried over his past.

Zayn rubbed his back quietly as Harry sobbed into his hands. Zayn understood. He had spoken to Harry's therapist; he understood the whole situation, he just needed to hear it from Harry.

Harry calmed down after a few minutes, few tears still escaping. His voice was broken and stuttery, Zayn's hand still soothing on his back.

"It's my fault," Harry said at long last. Zayn gave a reassuring squeeze on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at him from the corner of his eye and gave him a quick smile. He sat up and wiped his eyes.

"I can't believe it, Zee."

"I know, Harry. I know..."

Harry took a deep breath, held it for a moment, they sighed and lent back into Zayn's hand. "The blood on my hands..." Harry held out his hands for Zayn to see. Zayn gave a pitiful smile.

"It'll okay okay, Haz. I hear you're getting better. You've only got a few more months, then you'll be out."

Harry nodded. He was arrested for theft, but he was lucky to only get an one year sentence. Zayn moved his hand from Harry's back to his knee and gave it a gentle pat.

"Niall and I are happy to let you stay with us for a bit, at least until you find yourself someone to live."

Harry groaned.

"Yeah, Niall's still holding a grudge, but I think he forgives you. He understands the situation."

Zayn smiled to Harry. Harry will always appreciate this friendship he has with Zayn. Zayn had visited him once before while he's been in prison, but they didn't talk much back then. Before he was arrested, they hardly saw each other. Zayn texted- of course he texted. Harry was like his brother; his crazy, off the wall brother who deserved to be locked up, well, a little.

Zayn sighed comfortingly and said, "You wanna talk?"

Harry nodded. They'd talk, and then they'd come to an understanding. Then Zayn would leave, and then in a few months time he'd be there to take Harry back to the flat he shared with his fiance, Niall. Then Harry would go to their wedding, and he'd keep going to therapy. And Harry would be good. He'd stay inside so as to not get into trouble. Maybe he'd even go and get a job, help the happy couple pay for the rent, do some good for the world. And then he'd go a visit Louis, and he'd talk to him about everything. He'd give Louis flowers, and say how he always loved him. He'd say sorry. Then he'd find himself a home, maybe even find himself someone to make him happy. Then he'd live happily ever after. But that was what was going to happen. Right now, in the cold, dim-lighted cell of the ruthless prison, Harry was going to talk to Zayn. He was going to talk.

Harry smiled. Peace at last.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. Wow, this certainly was…… dark…… I had too much creative licence for this one! Please don’t lock me up! XD I hope you liked it, and I didn’t give any of you nightmares! SORRY HARRY! (And Louis!)  
> I had no idea how I was going to make Harry feel not bad that he caused Louis’ death. So I decided to make Harry have ASPD, so I had to give him a backstory for that… So yeah, less of an imagine (and not that much fluff, sorry) but I tired to make it as good as possible. I just had too many ideas to work with for this one! So, I hope you enjoyed it, and don’t lock me up for insanity! :D x


End file.
